Tu Me Manques
by ItalianPrincess92
Summary: In French, you don't say "I miss you." Instead, you say "tu me manques," which is closer to "you are missing from me." I love that. "You are missing from me." You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.


**This will hurt. Buckle up, kiddos.**

 **Trigger warning: Blood, major character death**

 **I am so sorry.**

* * *

After four years of working side-by-side, Ladybug and Chat Noir have become one. They share everything: secrets, their wildest dreams, (and even a few kisses from time to time). They can read the other's mind before they even think it. Their relationship is beautiful and complex, and only they are able to appreciate just how special their bond is. Love is a powerful word, but, without a doubt, that's what it is. What they feel for each other is love, in its purest, most unadulterated form. Their hearts and souls are bound by fate. They have been from the moment they first transformed so long ago. Nothing can tear them apart. No matter what may come, nothing can destroy the sacred connection they have. Nothing at all.

Not even death.

* * *

Their mission starts off like any other. By now, their movements are fluid; in-sync. Their routine is second nature to them, so there are no surprises. While everyone else runs for cover, the duo charges ahead, straight into danger.

Soon enough, they unearth the supervillain's motivation, as well as where the akuma has taken refuge.

"It's in there," Ladybug tells Chat, pointing to the emerald hanging from a gold chain around his neck.

"Got it. Ready?"

She nods. "Ready."

Steadying himself, Chat hurls his baton at the villain like a javelin. Right on target, it stuns him and knocks him to the ground. The silver staff with the green paw print then rolls back to its owner, who promptly scoops it up and puts in back in place.

"Nice shot, kitty," Ladybug says, giving his arm a playful nudge.

Resting his hand on her shoulder, Chat winks at her. "Well, you know I have _purr_ fect aim. You're up, lovebug."

Moving closer, Ladybug grabs her yo-yo from her waist. In one try, she manages to wrap the invincible string around the jewel and snatch the source of power from their adversary. "Gotcha!"

As Ladybug goes to crush the stone beneath her heel, the villain gains his footing. He darts forward. There's no time to react. It happens too fast. It's like a horror movie.

The villain thrusts his sword into Ladybug's torso and then yanks it out, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Chat feels his heart plummet, taking with it all the oxygen from his lungs.

"No!"

Her foot instinctively comes down on the infected object, releasing the akuma. But then she stumbles back from shock. At the same time, the villain is disarmed, returning to his civilian form.

Chat doesn't know how, but he's by his partner's side in an instant, catching her before she hits the pavement. Even against her crimson suit, he can see the viscous, scarlet liquid that is dripping from her stomach. _God, no. No._ With no time to waste, Chat lays her down before taking the yo-yo from her closed fist. The akuma is free, but still not neutralized. He knows all too well the consequences of letting a darkened akuma go. It happened on their very first assignment, and they are determined never to repeat the mistake. Flipping the yo-yo open, Chat reaches up and snaps it shut around the possessed butterfly. He doesn't have the ability to purify it, but it's captured, and that's all that counts.

"Go get help!" Chat yells, seeing the man they've just defeated from the corner of his eye. He's standing back, his gaze transfixed on the young girl lying on the cobblestone in a puddle of blood. There is a look of abject terror on his face. He doesn't even know what he's done.

"Oh, my God."

"Go!"

That startles him, and the man turns and runs. The street is then deserted, save for the two superheroes.

Falling to his knees beside her, Chat first notices her eyes. She's conscious, but her pupils are dilating, consuming her irises until there's just a thin ring of blue around black. "Bugaboo...?"

"Chat..." she whimpers, looking up at him. Her hand travels down to her abdomen, where the warm pool of blood paints the tips of her fingers. "It hurts."

He's almost afraid to touch her; as if somehow that will cause irrevocable damage. But he has no choice. Laying his hand on her stomach, Chat uses his palm to apply pressure. She winces, her eyes welling up with tears.

"I know," he says, keeping his voice low. He needs her to stay calm. "I'm sorry. Just breathe, okay?"

Before she can even respond, her Miraculous gives a single beep. It's a warning. A soft, pink glow envelops her, and when it fades, Chat is positive that his heart has stopped beating. His vision swims at the sickening realization of who is lying before him.

 _Oh, God. No. Please. It can't be._

"Marinette?"

She coughs, and it's an awful, wet sound. Already, he can see a thin trail of blood trickling down the side of her mouth. "Hi, kitty," she says, her voice barely a whisper. A sad smile graces her lips. "I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?"

Chat feels a noise leave his throat; a harsh mix of a laugh and a sob. "That's my line," he gently chides her, sweeping some hair out of her face. "Hold on, okay? I'm calling for help. Just stay awake. Please."

Hands trembling, Chat reaches for the staff that hangs from his belt. Blood - _her blood_ \- smears across the screen, and he can hardly see the numbers to dial. _God, why is there so much blood?_ After an agonizing five seconds, he hears a click and a woman's voice on the other end.

 _"What is your emergency?"_

Chat swallows, the words sticking to the roof of his mouth. He's starting to panic. The blood is everywhere, and putting pressure on the injury seems to only make it worse. "Please," he chokes out. "My friend. She's been stabbed. She's bleeding out. We're on _Avenue Foch_ , near the _Arc_. Please hurry. _Please._ "

Not waiting for a reply, Chat drops the baton and turns his attention back to Marinette. Her eyes are closed, and the color has all but drained from her face. She's so pale.

"Marinette," he says, stroking her cheek. "Please don't go to sleep. Open your eyes. Look at me, okay? Help is coming."

At that moment, a familiar chime rings through the air. His Miraculous is running out. Knowing what's about to happen, Chat shields her from the neon green flash and waits. His leather suit disappears, replaced by his jeans and a plain black T-shirt.

Gathering what little energy she has left, Marinette opens her eyes. When she sees who is staring down at her, she chuckles. It's breathy and weak. "Adrien..."

"Shh..." he murmurs. "Don't try to talk. Save your strength." _Stay alive. Please._

"I should have known it was you," she says, ignoring his advice. "It was always you. _Mon petit chaton._ " The corners of her mouth turn up the slightest bit as her eyes flutter closed once more.

In a desperate attempt to stall the bleeding, Adrien takes off his jacket and balls it up, holding it firm against the gaping wound. Blood soaks right through the crisp, white material, staining it red within seconds.

"Marinette, you're going to be okay," he whispers, eyes beginning to blur with tears. "Just hang on."

He swears that he hears her say that she's cold. And as her body starts to convulse, it confirms his worst fears.

Adrien huddles close, wrapping his arms around her shivering form. There are sirens in the distance, but they won't make it. As much as he doesn't want to believe it, he knows the truth. The fact that she's cold is not a good sign. The blood loss is already too great. She's going to die before they arrive, and he's going to watch it happen, helpless to stop it.

Cupping her cheek with one hand, Adrien brushes his thumb over her pallid skin. Her breathing has become so shallow, and he knows that she doesn't have more than a couple minutes. There are so many things that he wants to tell her, and now he'll never get the chance. With the precious time he has left, he only prays that she can hear him.

"I love you, Marinette," he says, the tears breaking through the dam at last. "I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The other hand on her chest, Adrien senses that something is wrong. Feeling for her pulse, he realizes how thready it is. She's slipping away right before his eyes, and there's nothing he can do. Her chest rises and falls only twice more, and then she stills. Just like a flame, her life is extinguished, and he's alone.

Burying his head in the crook of her neck, he sobs, the grief slicing him to his core.

Adrien can hear the sirens approaching. They'll be here any second, and he needs to hurry. Sitting up straight, he tucks an arm under Marinette's head and cradles it, letting it rest in his lap. Being as gentle as possible, Adrien removes her Miraculous and then scoops up the kwami that lies beside her. The small creature is unconscious, having been expelled from the earrings when Marinette de-transformed. He needs to keep them both safe. He doesn't even want to imagine what will happen if they fall into the wrong hands.

An ambulance and police car pull up to the circle, but Adrien pays them no mind. They're too late. She's gone. His best friend. His other half. The love of his life. She's gone, and he wishes he were dead too.

As the paramedics rush over, Adrien shouts at them, distraught. _Don't touch her! Leave her alone!_ He tries to keep them away, but he's no match for the two burly police officers who come and drag him from her body. Working quickly, the paramedics cover her with a white sheet before lifting her onto a stretcher and into the waiting ambulance. Adrien doesn't remember much after that. He blacks out. The trauma of what he's just witnessed is too overwhelming. The last thing he thinks before everything goes dark is that he hopes he never wakes up.

* * *

Adrien is admitted to the hospital for shock. Under his father's explicit orders, he stays for observation for nearly a week. But the moment the doctors sign the release, he heads straight for _La Boulangerie du Dupain_. Adrien owes it to Marinette's parents to let them know that their daughter died a hero. It's much harder to face them than he ever thinks possible. He breaks down in their living room, apologizing for not being able to save their only child, and begging for their forgiveness. Just as he expects, they're silent as they try to process everything he's just told them. What he doesn't expect is for them to hug him and tell him that it's not his fault. Not in the least. The person responsible is Hawk Moth. He murdered their daughter. If anything, they're grateful to Adrien for being with Marinette in her final moments. They can only imagine how scared she must have been, but knowing that Adrien was there helps to ease their pain, even if it's just a little bit. Adrien wishes he could see it that way.

News of Ladybug's death spreads like wildfire through the city, along with her true identity. As a result, thousands turn up to pay their respects to the young girl who helped keep Paris safe for so long, as well as their friend, the daughter of a baker. Mourners leave flowers, candles, and handwritten notes by the _Arc de Triomphe_ , near to where she died. Soon, the memorial grows to a point where it begins to hinder traffic. But no one complains. It's a small sacrifice to make to honor her memory.

Mayor Bourgeois approaches Marinette's parents in the following days. He wants to hold a public funeral and give Marinette a farewell fit for a hero. When Adrien hears of the offer, his blood boils. As kind as it seems, it isn't his idea. It's Chloé's. He knows the girl too well. While he doesn't want to go as far as to say that Chloé is happy that Marinette is gone, he is sure that she plans to exploit the tragedy as a way to garner sympathy. He doesn't think he can stomach the sight of her weeping and wailing into Sabrina's shoulder, or worse, delivering a phony eulogy filled with lies and outrageous stories. In the end, however, Marinette's parents decline the mayor's proposal. Instead, they opt for a private ceremony, only open to family and close friends.

At the cemetery, Adrien stands in between Alya and Nino. The hole in the ground mirrors the one in Adrien's chest. He's numb as he listens to the priest offer his prayers and condolences. He feels disconnected from the scene before him; like he's dreaming. It doesn't seem real. When the time comes to drop their flower into the freshly-dug grave, Alya and Nino have to guide him forward, their hands gently wrapped around his wrists. When Adrien sees the coffin at the bottom of the chasm, a dizzy spell grips him, and his stomach twists. He wrenches out of his friends' hold, the lily falling from his grasp. He can't look any longer. _Please wake up._

* * *

After the service, the attendees congregate at the bakery. Adrien hangs back in the corner, watching. It's a sea of black, the hum of quiet chatter in the air. With everyone downstairs in the shop, Adrien excuses himself and goes up to the main level. This is her home. The place where he spent countless hours, dreading when the time came that he'd have to go back to his own house. From the moment he met Marinette, he realized just how much he craved what she had. Marinette's home is warm and cozy, teeming with love. There is always someone to talk to, and Adrien always feels like a part of the family, rather than just a guest. In stark contrast, his mansion is more like a prison. It's sterile and lonely, and way too big for only two people - that's if his father is even there at all.

As he makes his way across the room, Adrien draws in a breath. There are pictures of Marinette at every turn. On the walls, in simple frames on a little side table, and on the refrigerator. They chronicle her short life of eighteen years, spanning all the way from her childhood to her last Bastille Day celebration just one month ago. That particular one catches his attention. Taking the photo in his hands, Adrien runs his finger along the scalloped edge of the silver frame. Wearing a red, white and blue summer dress, Marinette waits with hundreds of others along the Champs-Élysées for the parade that's about to begin. She looks so happy and _so_ beautiful. Her infectious smile, petite nose dotted with freckles and her azure eyes that sparkle like precious gems. Adrien doesn't know why there are water droplets on the glass until he touches his face and feels tears streaming down his cheeks.

Reality hits him like a train. Clutching the picture to his chest, Adrien backs up until he's flush against the couch. He then sinks to the floor, a ragged sob echoing against the four walls. Anguish rattles his bones.

She's _dead_. Marinette is _dead_. The word rings in his ears, hammering itself into his brain. Adrien doesn't care what anyone says; it's his fault. He should be the one who's six feet under right now, not her. His only job as Chat Noir is to protect Ladybug, and he's failed. Because of him, her parents will now have to eat dinner beside an empty chair. Because of him, Alya won't have her best friend to call in the middle of the night. Because of him, the world will never know the creative genius of her fashion designs. Adrien leans his head against the couch as his sobs melt into sniffles. She had so much to live for. Why couldn't it have been him? Why?

* * *

"Adrien!" Plagg hisses at his charge who is halfway out his bedroom window. "Where are you going?"

Caught, Adrien looks over his shoulder at his kwami. The creature's piercing green eyes are the only things visible in the dark. It's close to midnight, Adrien guesses. He hasn't checked the clock in a while.

"I can't sleep," Adrien says, gripping the windowsill.

Plagg floats over, pausing a couple inches from Adrien's face. In the moonlight, Adrien can see Plagg's concerned expression. "What's up, man? You okay?"

 _Not really._

"I just need some air," he says. "Don't worry. I won't be long. Stay with Tikki, alright?"

Adrien waits until Plagg is back inside before making his way to the roof. Even without the suit, being Chat Noir has given him the ability to climb walls and scale buildings with ease.

When he reaches the top, Adrien wanders near the edge, looking out over the city. Despite how late it is, Paris is glowing with activity. The Eiffel Tower is a glittering beacon of light, giving the stars a run for their money. Tucking his hands into his pockets, Adrien sighs. He's honestly surprised that this is the first time that Plagg has found him sneaking out. He's done it so often, he's lost count. It's his new normal. Sleep is a distant memory for him. His mind is always racing now; so much so that he can't even think straight most days. And, if he ever does manage to nod off, he's plagued with recurring nightmares of Marinette dying in his arms. She's shaking and crying, pleading with him to save her. But he can't, no matter how hard he tries.

So to preserve his sanity, Adrien chooses to spend evenings in solitude, feeling the Parisian breeze grow cooler with the change of seasons. Watching the city from above reminds him of Chat's many nights on patrol with Ladybug. There was such a tranquility of being so far removed from everyone and everything; like they were the only two people in the world. That thought sets off a fresh pang of guilt in his chest. They laid her to rest nearly two months ago, yet Adrien still hasn't visited Marinette's grave since. Not even once. It hurts too much. Sometimes if he tries hard enough, he can fool himself into thinking she's on vacation or something. That she's safe from harm and that she's on her way back home. But the pretense doesn't last. Sooner or later, the bitter truth rears its ugly head and shatters him all over again.

Everyone around him is beginning to pick up the pieces. The bakery has reopened, Alya has gone off to university, and Nino has started his own DJ'ing business. Slowly but surely, they are on the road to healing. Except for Adrien. He's stuck, struggling to reconcile with the fact that Marinette is no longer with them. Every day, he recounts his actions in the moments leading up to Marinette's death. Everything he did and everything he _didn't_ do. He didn't call for help soon enough. He didn't do enough to slow the bleeding. He didn't protect her like he's supposed to.

Those regrets cling to him like unwelcome shadows, something he's not sure if he'll ever be completely free of for as long as he lives. Fighting to swallow the knot in his throat, Adrien realizes deep down what he has to do. He has to confront what he's been avoiding for far too long now. It won't be easy, but he knows it's the only thing that will give him the closure that he so desperately needs.

* * *

" _Merci,_ " Adrien says, taking the wrapped bouquet from the florist.

" _De rien, Monsieur Agreste. Bonne journée_."

He gives her a brief smile as she hands him his change. " _Vous aussi. Au revoir, madame._ "

" _Au revoir, chéri._ "

Adrien hears the jingle of the bell above the door as he exits the flower shop. An encouragement.

Adjusting the delicate package in his arms, the fragrant scent wafts up and tickles his nose. It's a combination of daisies and red roses - two of Marinette's favorites.

Adrien walks with slow, almost hesitant steps, listening to the dry autumn leaves crunching under his soles. An early November fog hangs over the city, shrouding buildings and street signs in a dense mist. It resembles smoke, he thinks. Thick and blinding.

Somehow, his feet lead him to his destination without much thought. Reaching his arm out, Adrien grabs ahold of the wrought iron gate. As his fingers curl around the cold metal, a wave of goosebumps ripples across his skin. Maybe he's made a mistake. Maybe he's not ready to face her, after all.

 _No._ Adrien tightens his hold on the gate. He's made a promise, not only to himself but to Marinette. He has to do this. She deserves that much.

He steels himself and walks through with a renewed sense of resolve, hearing the gate close behind him with an echoing clang.

Keeping his gaze on the frostbitten earth, Adrien follows the path to where Marinette is buried. Her plot is at the far edge of the cemetery, situated right along a neat row of hedges. As he draws closer, Adrien remembers a phone conversation he had a few weeks back between him and Alya, with her telling him that Marinette's headstone had finally arrived. She'd asked if he wanted a picture, but he had declined, giving some half-assed excuse that he would visit the next day. They both knew that he was lying.

But now, Adrien can no longer run from the inevitable. Glancing up, his breath catches in his throat when he realizes he's made it and sees what used to be an empty space now occupied by something heavy and permanent and real.

It's a rounded piece of shiny, black marble, and as Adrien takes the final few steps forward, he is able to read the words etched into the façade.

 _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_

 _Beloved Daughter and Friend_

 _Fly Free, Our Little Ladybug_

There is a piercing ache in his sternum as he traces the simple inscription with his index finger, moving slowly so as to retain every detail of the cursive lettering. Once he reaches the end, he pulls his hand away and kneels before the stone, laying the bouquet on the damp ground. He then reaches into his pocket, retrieving the note that he spent the better part of the morning writing. He nestles it between the rose stems to keep it in place before sitting back on his heels.

Adrien stares straight ahead at the stone as if waiting for it to respond. But of course, it won't. He's all alone, and the silence that roars in his ears is a constant reminder. In a way, he's hesitant to speak for fear that he doesn't know what will happen once he opens his mouth. Still, Adrien knows that he needs to press on in order to be able to move forward.

"Marinette..." His voice cracks on the last syllable, and despite the fact that there's no one around to hear, Adrien clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the sob that rips itself from deep within his chest. It's been weeks since he's said her name out loud and the warm familiarity of how it sounds makes his heart twist.

He wraps the other arm around himself in a pathetic attempt at comfort, though it does nothing to stop the trembling that wracks his frame.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he chokes out, harshly scrubbing away the tears that have started to rush down his cheeks in a free fall. His tone grows sharp, though, in that moment, he's not sure who he's truly angry with. "You and I were a team. I can't be Chat Noir without you, Marinette. I just don't know what I should do anymore. Why did you leave me?"

Adrien grabs a fistful of brittle grass and rips it from the ground before letting the blades slip between his fingers. His nerves begin to settle. "Everyone misses you so much," he says, sniffling. " _I_ miss you. I just feel so lost now that you're not here."

A gentle breeze then sweeps past him that ruffles his hair, and Adrien hears a faint rumble of thunder far off in the distance. He chuckles. "I remember when we first met," he continues. "I was the new kid and you were so mad because you thought I put gum on your seat. I was sure you hated me. But we became best friends. You were my first _true_ friend, Mari, and I never thanked you for that."

A rogue tear slips from his eye as he recalls the memory of standing on the steps of the middle school and passing his umbrella to Marinette as a proverbial olive branch, hoping and praying that she would accept the small gesture of kindness.

"God, you were brilliant," he adds. "And generous. And warm-hearted. I've never known someone as incredible as you, Marinette. You changed my life, and I regret not telling you that I loved you every single day. Each time I thought I was ready to say it, I'd back out at the last second. I guess I was just afraid of ruining our friendship. I know it probably seems meaningless now, but I needed you to hear it. I've loved you since that first day and I really hope you can forgive me for keeping it to myself. I would give anything to have you back, but even though I can't, I'm going to cherish the memories we shared and the time we had together because these past four years have been the best of my entire life."

Feeling the first few raindrops landing on his skin, Adrien wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and gets to his feet.

As he prepares to leave, Adrien touches the headstone one last time. The marble is cool and smooth under the pads of his fingers. He then closes his eyes, listening as the wind begins to pick up and whistle between the branches. For a moment, he imagines that it's her voice, sweet and clear, calling to him. Assuring him that she's okay.

He opens his eyes, and though it's shaky, he manages a smile.

 _"Adieu, mon amour."_

* * *

 _Ma très chère, Marinette_

 _Tu es tout_ ce que j'ai _de plus_ cher au _monde_  
 _Tu représentes tellement pour moi que ces quelques mots ne suffiront pas_  
 _À te dire à quel point je t'aime et tu me manques_  
 _Vous êtes toujours dans mon coeur et je vous aimerai jusqu'à la fin des temps_

 _À toi, pour toujours_  
 _Adrien_

* * *

 **My dearest, Marinette**

 **You're all that I hold most dear in the world**  
 **You mean so much to me that these words are not enough**  
 **To tell you how much I love you and how I miss you**  
 **You are always in my heart and I will love you until the end of time**

 **Forever yours,**  
 **Adrien**

 **Please R &R!**

 **Check me out on Tumblr - PrincessOfNewCorona - you can yell at me if you want :)**


End file.
